Insomia

Can't sleep ....

It was unwanted moments like this that eventually led Moreau to ponder skeptically in the kitchen. The various thoughts at the top of her head wanted her to continue to be lured into the quietest of situations.

Expecting to be alone, though that could not really be concluded.

There was a puff of smoke... very faintly wafting around in the air. Leaving a certain impression, so that Moreau knew; she needed to wait, stirring the melted hot chocolate longer so that the flavor wouldn't burn, like the times when Barbara deprived her of sole possession.

Nothing seemed to interest Moreau more than to think about how wide Barbara's interest in something, someone else's, could be categorized under the need to share. She would not deny that she had learned the irony of her mother's attitude. Barbara went so far as to assume that everything could play a part, as if there was nothing substantial, that the woman underestimat